Snapshots
by You Can Call Me The Captain
Summary: Lovino Vargas is a photographer staying in Spain for the time being. Antonio Carreido is a bumbling school counselor who is shunned by the teachers at his school for "being immature". One day, they run into each other- literally. Though they get off on the wrong foot, they find they're falling for each other. Of course, there's a wee problem- Lovino hasn't spoken in over a year!
1. Chapter 1

**Snapshots Ch. 1**

**A/N: Okay, first chapter of first story, yay! I really hope you guys enjoy! I know this chapter is short but I'll put up another one first thing tomorrow morning! Anyway, I do NOT own Hetalia or any of its characters, no matter how much I hope and pray. Also, this fanfiction is rated T for some language, and boyxboy love, but nothing too serious! Reviews make me happy. Very, very happy. So happy that I put up an extra long chapter tomorrow. **wink** **wink****

It had been a picturesque day in Madrid. At least, a certain photographer named Lovino Vargas thought so, and he'd taken advantage of it. He now had half a dozen camera rolls safely tucked away in his bag, which he was now taking to be developed. He tried to keep his eyes on his toes, but they kept shifting around beneath his eyelashes, looking around at the feet of the crowds around him. He had no clue how anyone ever knew what to do with their hands; he usually just kept them in his pockets. He looked up just long enough to see another person way too interested in the ground coming towards him, and then it was too late. They walked right into each other, since Lovino barely had time to register this person, and no time to stop. After they collided, Lovino began mildly panicking- how the hell did you talk to people, again? Flustered, Lovino did what came naturally; kept his mouth shut. Lucky for him, the stranger seemed just as fluttered, though he did everything but keep his own mouth shut.

"Ah! Um, uh, a-are you okay? Lo siento! Lo siento mucho! Please forgive me! Lo siento..." This went on for some time, drawing some gazes towards the one-man ruckus. This turn of events only flustered Lovino further, and he had never been so jealous of the puddle on the side road- he wished he could be one too. He knew he had to do something, so he tugged his notepad and pen out of his bag and scribbled on it. "Please stop talking!" And he hit the now bent-over man over the head with it and then held it up for him to see.

"Huh?" He responded, holding his head where he'd been hit- Lovino had been none too gentle with his notepad. After reading the note, he looked up at the Italian with a curious puppy-dog expression. "I'm right here, why can't you just tell me?" He said, blinking a few times for emphasis. Feeling slightly embarrassed and a little peeved that he would probably end up explaining it to yet another person if he stuck around too long, he decided to get it over with as quickly as possible. "I don't talk." He wrote and held up just long enough for the other man to read it, before tucking it beneath his shoulder and walking briskly past him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Snapshots Ch. 2**

**A/N: I know there seemed to be some problems with the last chapter, but I fixed that right up! Thanks to Fruitstogether for alerting me to the problem! Also, sorry for being so late- I got caught up with some summer schoolwork due when school starts. Anyway, nice and long chapter for you guys, coming right up! Enjoy~!**

Lovino only got a few steps before he was stopped by someone grabbing his wrist. He turned to face who had, not surprised to see the person he'd just walked away from. Lovino pulled his hand free and then crossed his arms, standing in the most intimidating pose he could manage, but it just came off as sassy.  
"Um, well, I was going to ask if I could get you a coffee? To, you know, apologize for bumping into you?" The stranger said after it was clear Lovino wasn't saying anything- or writing, for that matter. Now that he wasn't going over the top with apologies, and now that Lovino wasn't overwhelmed by the situation, he got his first good look at the man. He was taller than Lovino, with tan skin and puppy-dog eyes that were a bright shade of green. He had tussled brown hair that looked like he'd just crawled out of bed. Lovino had to admit, he was fairly attractive, and seemed nice enough. Lovino, however, wasn't nice enough to just accept coffee with an attractive person right off the bat. With an overly dramatic sigh and some obvious eye-rolling, Lovino pulled out his notepad and scribbled some words. "You really don't have to apologize anymore, you know. And I don't even know your name." He held it up for the Spaniard to see.  
"How about this? If you don't want me to take you to coffee as an apology, than I will take you to coffee as a date!" He said excitedly in response. Lovino felt the beginning of a blush on his cheeks, and began writing hurriedly. "Apology coffee is fine."

The Spaniard gave an almost smug look as he read the note. "I thought that might work! Let's go; we're not too far from a coffee shop I know." With that, He grabbed Lovino's wrist, and Lovino allowed himself to be tugged away by this person. The Spaniard gave a dazzling smile over his shoulder as he said, "My name is Antonio, by the way!  
When they arrived at the coffee shop Antonio had mentioned before, Lovino practically dove for one of the empty booths in the back before he even tried to look around. The shop had a very obvious green and white color scheme. The booth he sat in was no different. The two almost sofa-like booth chairs were a spring green, and the table between was a bright white. The walls were split in half- green on the bottom, white on the top. And the floor was checkered green and white. It was really more upscale than Lovino was used to. At the center was a green counter for the workers to stand behind, and where Antonio was chatting up the female worker currently manning the counter. With a huff of determination and the beginning of a feeling in his stomach he'd need to investigate later, he made a beeline to join Antonio at the counter. "Ah, Lovino! I was wondering where you'd gotten off to!" Antonio said cheerfully when he saw him, pulling him closer instead of sulking three feet away. Lovino decided he hated this coffee shop and was about to let Antonio know that, until he realized he'd forgotten his notepad at the booth. He would feel way too silly going back for it, and the girl was giving him looks as it was. So he sat there, stewing in his typical cranky mood, until he felt him being dragged off again, snapping him out of it. When he looked up, Antonio was taking him to the booth, but didn't they still need to order? Once they sat down opposite each other, Antonio noticed the confused and lost face on Lovino's face, which was in danger of becoming permanent. With a little chuckle at how childish Lovino looked, he said, "Lovi! Qué pasa? Do you not like what I ordered for you?"

Blinking a bit in surprise, the confused scowl seemed to fly off Lovino's face at he scribbled quickly, "Wait. Did you order for me?"  
"Mmhm! Did you zone out?" Antonio answered with a smile so carefree, flowers were popping out of his head.  
Narrowing his eyes, Lovino remembered what else Antonio had said. In a strange mix of anger, crankiness, and the feeling he'd elected to ignore earlier (he still had no clue what it is!), he jotted onto his paper, "Never mind that. Did you call me Lovi?"  
"Yes? Why, do you not like it? I think it's cute!"  
"Bastard! I am an adult! I won't be called cute, especially not by someone I just met!"  
"He ended his literary rant with a pout that just seemed comically hypocritical to his own words. However, Antonio had to consent to this admittedly adorable person before him.  
He shined him a bright smile, but before he had the chance to say anything, a different worker than the one from before called their names in a bored tone. Lovino slouched further into the soft cushions, making it as obvious as he could that he was not getting up again unless it was to leave. With a soft sigh, Antonio got up to get their drinks. When he returned, he slid Lovino's drink across the table and took a sip from his own. After a few moments of quiet sipping, Lovino peered over the top of his green mug with little white bubble designs on the bottom. Putting it down, he wrote down in his best handwriting:  
"I know you want to ask."  
"Hm? I don't know what you're talking about!" Antonio said in a way that made it very obvious that he knew exactly what he was talking about.  
In pissed-off defiance only achievable through years of dedication, Lovino made a point of putting his mug down, leaning into the cushions, crossing his arms, and cocking one eyebrow at the Spaniard across from him. Throwing his hands up in mock forfeit, Antonio consented.

"Okay I give, I give! I was wondering why you don't...ah, you know..." He faltered in his speech, the verbal equivalent of tripping over your shoelaces. Watching Antonio grasp at straws, not quite sure how to pose the question, Lovino gave in. He leaned forward to write on his notepad, taking his time so that he could answer short and sincere, and in his best handwriting, of course.

"Why I don't talk? It's not like a lifelong thing or anything; it's actually relatively recent, in fact. My dad was always a bit of a drunk- long story short, I spent a lot of time in hospitals, but not for myself. He never meant anything, but he wasn't exactly careful. And before you get any ideas, no, my dad was not an abusive drunk. I was actually pretty fond of the man. He was a good man, but he got into some debt with all the wrong people. We were alright for a bit- my little brother and I had no idea about his debt. But after I graduated high school, my grandfather wanted us to visit him in Rome. Feliciano, my brother, left the week after school let out, and I was supposed to go with him. Unfortunately, my dad had to take another trip to the hospital because of his drinking, so I opted to stay behind and go with him when he was better. Then, the night he was sent home, some guys from the Mafia came knocking, looking to collect the debt my dad had been running from. When I went to answer the door..." Lovino paused here to steady his breath and hand, before continuing.  
"...they just let themselves in, giving me and my dad a pretty good beating. When I came to, my grandfather was telling me that Feliciano and I were going to stay with him for a while in Rome. It was nice, and my grandfather was a great man, but I knew I was nothing but a burden, so I stayed only long enough for me to recover, and then I came here. Of course, I haven't spoken since I woke up in the hospital. That was a little over a year ago. The second anniversary is coming up, now that I think about it." With this, Lovino began pushing the note towards Antonio, when he heard his phone begin vibrating. He fumbled a bit to get it out of the bag; his hands hadn't really stopped shaking, just calmed down every now and then. But when he did manage to get it out, the number flashing on his screen almost made him drop his phone on the checkered floor. He thought he heard someone calling him, but the thrumming sound of his heart in his ears and the rushing of blood from his head, as well as one word that seemed to cement itself in his thoughts:  
Why?

**A/N: Okay! That's a wrap! Well, for this chapter anyway. I'm sorry if the ending sucks, it was my attempt at a cliffhanger, but I can't write suspense for my life. I'll try to get another chapter up soon, but we'll see. I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter and keep reading my story!**


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